


Dreamer

by kentuckybarnes (hannah_jpg)



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Premonitions, Reader Insert, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-02
Updated: 2018-10-02
Packaged: 2019-07-23 23:11:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16168721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hannah_jpg/pseuds/kentuckybarnes
Summary: Your special gift? Premonitions. One night you dream a warning for Bucky’s death, and…something else, a little more awkward.





	Dreamer

Tony had called another briefing.

Normally these don't make you nervous - you usually sit to the side, offering your advice when it presents itself, but otherwise staying silent and listening to the team make preparations for...whatever they're doing. But today, nerves and dread are twisting your stomach, and your hand is shaking as you push open the door.

You're the last one there. Probably since you'd been dragging your feet. A few heads turn, offering you smiles or nods, and you sink into a chair at the end of the long boardroom table with a wince. Maybe no one would notice how your breathing is sharp, how sweat has broken out on your forehead.

Ha. Yeah, right. Not in this company. Natasha casts you a funny look across the table before turning back to Tony standing at the front of the room.

"It's a simple mission," he's saying. "In and out. Prisoner retrieval." A flurry of images appears in a projection in the middle of the table; U.S. agents and individuals you don't recognize, and frankly, you care little about. Your eyes instead descend upon Bucky a few chairs down from you, his brow furrowed as he studies the faces on the projection. Your stomach drops to your feet; you can already see the glint in his eye as he considers the mission.

"They're being kept in a guerilla-guarded fort in Indonesia," Tony continues, a glowing map now taking the place of the prisoners. "There's only about two dozen guards - a pittance, really. I have a jet on standby. No fancy methods - just in and out."

"I have a date tonight," Natasha says.

"Get a raincheck. Jarvis interpreted a signal stating that the prisoners would be moved to a more secure location tomorrow. We only have a few hours." Tony meets the eyes of everyone at the table - well, mostly they look away. Including you.

"You got anything to offer us?" he asks you. Everyone turns towards you now; you feel a hot flush rising in your cheeks as you wring your hands together. Your throat has closed over.

"Um - none...for the team," you manage to say.

"Good. Report to the jet in twenty, folks."

Muttered exchanges break out as everyone stands. You're frozen where you are, and you feel the whoosh of warmth as Bucky strides past you, leaving with Steve.

 _None for the team_. You're a liar.

You push your chair from the table and stand on shaking legs. They feel numb as you duck into the hall, watching where Bucky and Steve's backs have disappeared beyond a corner. Taking a breath, you wobble after them.

"Er - Steve! Wait!"

At your voice they pause; you're out of breath (from rushing  _and_  from an unnatural terror), but you try to smile all the same as you stop in front of the two men. They're so much taller than you that you can't help but feel a tad intimidated, although you know them well enough that you're in less danger than from a pair of puppies.

"Hey," Steve says. "What's up?"

"Um…can I talk to Bucky for a minute?"

Steve blinks. But thankfully, he doesn't comment on your unusual approach. "Sure," he says. "I've got to get ready, anyway. See ya on the jet, Buck." And he turns to leave, nonplussed.

You shift your weight awkwardly. You've never really been alone with Bucky before - even though it is a public hallway, and his eyes are hot on your face as you meet his gaze.

"Hi," you blurt.

A smile curls his lips. "Hi." Bucky's hands are tucked in his pocket. He's patient, you have to give him that.

"Um...I had a dream about you," you begin.

This fazes Bucky. His eyebrows lift, his smile fades. "Oh?"

"The, uh, mission. You...shouldn't go."

"You got a warning?"

"Yeah. I did." This is your special talent - why Tony Stark picked you out as another protege; you've had premonitory dreams since you were a child. It's been put to good use for the Avengers, and you feel less weird around other weirdos than normal people. Most of the time it isn't so awkward. Or maybe it would've been less awkward if your dream had stopped with the vision of Bucky lying dead in the jungles of Indonesia, and not continued onto something totally different...

"Okay," Bucky says at last.

"Okay?" you repeat, confused. Your cheeks are hot.

"Okay, I won't go," he tells you with a shrug. "Good enough for me." A pause, and he breaks into another smile, which causes your heart rate to pick up slightly. "I remember when you told Clint not to eat from that street cart on the Lower East Side, and he was puking for a week. I'd like to think I'm smart enough to actually listen when you warn me."

"Oh," you say. "Well - thanks. I'm glad you're listening." You run your clammy fingers through your hair, offering a wry smile. "I guess...I'm glad you won't be dying today."

Bucky blinks. "Oh...that's a pretty big warning."

You laugh shakily. "Yeah. Yeah, definitely."

"Well, thank you again. See you around?"

He's going to leave. Probably tell the rest of the team he'll be sitting this one out. You nod, and he give you a final grin before turning to stride away. You let out a deep breath as you watch his leather-jacket clad shoulders. Very nice shoulders. Very nice…

Bucky can  _not_  know that you'd dreamt of him twice, and the second time had been….well, never mind. You'd never live it down.

You sleep very little that night. The premonition of Bucky's death invaded your dreaming once more; it didn't seem quite fair, considering that you'd already prevented it. But it just means the moment it was supposed to happen hasn't passed yet, even if he  _is_  safe in Avengers Tower, and not in a jungle.

The orange and gold sunrise crests the horizon, breaking between the skyscrapers of New York City. You sit upright in bed, knowing that sleep is long out of reach as you rest your chin on your crossed arms. The team would be at the guerilla base by now and you knew they'd be successful. So there would only be several hours to kill until their return - no need to jump out of bed. It wasn't even seven a.m.

A knock on the door startles you. Pulling the covers up to your chin, you hear Jarvis announce coolly, "It is Sergeant Barnes, miss."

"Oh - let him in." You consider trying to neaten your hair - but it's a lost cause. And the close living quarters at Avengers Tower means that Bucky has already seen you in some pretty rough conditions, and vice versa.

His head peeks through, a smile breaking across his face as he finds you awake. You return the smile, and he slides inside. At least you aren't nearly as nervous at the sight of him as you'd been yesterday.

"Morning," Bucky says, his voice rough from sleep. He's dressed in sweatpants and a tank top, and the metal of his arm reflects the bright sunrise something awful. The reflection makes him blink comically, and he jerks his head towards your floor-to-ceiling, east-facing windows. "Doesn't that make it hard to sleep?" he asks.

"No more than being disturbed by premonitions."

"Ah. Right." He nods. His dark hair is pulled back into a bun at the nape of his neck, his cheeks unshaven.

"Are you lonely?" you blurt.

"Lonely?" Bucky blinks. "Um - not really. It just feels strange not to be on a mission. I...just came to see how you're holding up. You're usually here alone while we're all gone."

"That's kind of you," you say after a surprised pause. You consider then, a little belatedly, that you should've gotten out of bed before Bucky came in. Now it's awkward.

"Can I sit with you?" he asks suddenly. You meet his eyes - and then smile, shifting to the side of your bed, patting the covers beside you. Bucky crawls atop the blankets beside you, stretching his legs out long as he studies the brightening sunset for a moment. "It's a nice view," he admits after a moment. "It's gotta be hard to sleep in, though."

"Sleep in?" you raise your brows. "Who gets to do that?"

Bucky chortles, and you bite your lip to keep from giggling (no giggling in front of the Winter Soldier - it's a personal rule of yours). His head swivels to look at you, his eyes sparkling with light and mirth.

"So," he says, casual-like. "Are you okay?"

"Okay? Of course I'm - "

"Look, I'm gonna be honest." Bucky's gaze is warm on your face as he crosses his arms. "Yesterday when you told me about your dream...you were unusually nervous. I could tell."

"Tell?" you repeat stupidly.

"Well - you were sweating a bit. And your heart was beating out of control. I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"I'm...fine." No, you weren't. Because now you're remembering that steamy-Bucky-dream you'd had. No wonder he thought you were unwell - you can feel your own body reacting in a very humiliating way. And...now he's going to notice again. "It was just scary, that's all," you burst out. "I don't like dreaming of my friends dying."

Bucky is studying your face intently - for what, you don't know. "Haven't you had dreams like that before?" he asks slowly.

"Yeah. It's never fun."

He nods slowly. After an awkward pause, he asks, "Is that all you dreamed about?"

 _No._  But no, you can't tell him about the other dream! You bite your lip, and Bucky's brows draw together. But there's a smile hovering on his lips - how very odd. Suddenly wary of this surprise visit, you shift slightly away from him.

"Have super senses is annoying sometimes," he says without preamble. "It almost feels invasive."

"Okay…" You have no idea where he's going with this. And it's surprise that stiffens you where you sit as Bucky leans back against the pillows, giving you a suspiciously sultry look. What the - ?

"Did you have a sex dream about me?" he asks, after a pause.

Your eyes widen. Had he really just asked that? Bucky Barnes had asked you if you'd had a sex dream about him while he was  _in your bed_ , presumably for friendly conversation? Oh, no.

"Not exactly," you tell him, sniffing a little. "Is that why you're here?"

"What do you mean, not exactly?" It's not a smile on his lips - it's a smirk. You can see how long and thick his eyelashes are in the morning light. You swallow.

"It wasn't a sex dream," you say. "Just a...steamy dream."

"Uh huh."

"And how did you know?" you ask accusingly, deciding that a strong offense was in order.

"Like I said - having super senses is invasive. I notice physical reactions way too well. Including yours." Bucky is still grinning. And you're feeling frustrated. Though he's probably noticed that, too, with his 'super senses.'

"Well, thanks," you say sardonically. "Thanks for coming in to embarrass me. You can leave now."

"What'd you dream about me?" he asks, ignoring your words as he shifts onto his side, propping his head up on his metal arm, his gaze hot on your face.

"I'm not telling you."

Bucky's blue eyes are glinting navy, dangerously so, as they flicker to your mouth. Which suddenly goes  _very_ dry. When he speaks again, his lips curl into a smile as he says huskily, "Then how about you come over here and show me?"

Did he just - ? You frown, and give a sharp shake of your head.

" _No_." And that's enough of that. Flustered, You kick the covers away to climb out of bed, but strong fingers wrap around your wrist before you can stand. Scowling, you turn back to Bucky. The smirk is gone - replaced but the uncertainty you were more used to from him.

"I'm sorry," he says at once. "I didn't mean to embarrass you. I just…" he trails off.

"You just what, Bucky? Thought I have a little crush on you and decided to have some fun with it?"

He winces. "No…"

"Then what?"

"I...thought it was cute. I think it's cute. I think  _you_ 're cute." Bucky lifts his shoulders in a helpless shrug, and his fingers drop from your wrist. But you don't move. His ears are definitely tinted red now. Now  _that_  is cute. "It's been a long time," he blurts. "Since I've, erm, been with a woman. Tried to talk to one romantically. I guess I misread...um, your cues."

"Well, fine," you say at last. "Keep this encounter between us, and I'll forgive you for coming on to me. You're lucky I'm feeling so generous this morning."  _And that you're so irresistibly cute._  But you don't feel an urge to add  _that_  part.

Frowning, Bucky reaches out for you again, but this time he doesn't touch you. "Hey - don't your dreams predict the future?"

"Yeah."

"So...shouldn't a sex dream - pardon me, a  _steamy_  dream be as premonitary as your dream of me dying?"

He had you there. You blink, gnawing at your lip. "I hadn't thought about it like that," you admit.

"Why not? Your whole thing is that your dreams that tell the future!" Bucky is amused now - he chuckles at the expression on your face.

You don't have an answer, so you huff in frustration as you finally climb out of bed, grabbing a sweater from where it's slung over the back of a chair. Pulling it over your head, you feel less exposed, and a tad safer. Not that you believe that Bucky would try any funny business if you didn't want it - but still. Maybe it's your own feelings that are making you so uncomfortable.

"Well, don't worry about it," you tell him at last. "It'll come true, or it was just a normal day. But nothing's happening today. I distinctly remember a nightscape."

Bucky is watching you. You can feel his gaze.

"I won't worry," he says. "And I'm sorry. For barging in. And...other stuff."

"It's okay." You fluff up your hair, casting him back a glance with a brow raised. "You aren't nearly as invasive as Sam. He likes to come and act like I'm his dream interpreter or something."

Bucky laughs. "Can I make it up to you, at least? I'll make breakfast. Just us."

 _Just us._  Not that anyone else is in the Tower, anyway. But you like the sound of it, all the same. "I accept," you say.

His grin lights up your bedroom nearly as much as the sunrise. There's a very strange rush of heat through your limbs as you stare at him, so handsome and so sure of himself, as his eyes glint admiration. At  _you_. Bucky thinks you're cute.

A smile curls your lips. Maybe it  _had_ been a premonition, after all.

"Well, we haven't got all day," you say briskly. "Let's go."

You stride towards the door, feeling Bucky's very obvious presence as he falls in beside you.

"Pancakes?" he asks.

"Sure."


End file.
